


Not The Ideal Diet

by CaptainVivi



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: All I can write is angst, Eating Disorders, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2027109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainVivi/pseuds/CaptainVivi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your own mind is amazingly damaging when it chooses to attack you.</p>
<p>Set after the GPDA dinner in October 2013</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not The Ideal Diet

**Author's Note:**

> I am in no way accusing any driver of having an eating disorder, I'm merely projecting because I feel like shit right now.
> 
> I want to do a second part set in this year but it depends on how I feel.

_Ate too much, have to get rid of it._  
  
_Will get fatter, everyone will be disgusted._  
  
_Mark won’t touch me, he’ll leave._  
  
_Need to get to the bathroom._  
  
_Ate too much, have to get rid of it.Will get fatter, everyone will be disgusted.Mark wo-_  
  
‘Fernando?’  
  
Shocked from his looping thoughts he looks up to see Charles opposite him looking as if he’s waiting for Fernando to answer him.  
  
‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’  
  
Pedro laughs next to him and points to the waiter on the other side.  
  
‘What desert do you want.’  
  
_Desert?! I can’t have more! Have to leave now._  
  
He quickly calms his breathing to politely decline and watches with distain as the waiter steps across to take the order of the parallel table.  
  
_Leave now. Before they ask questions._  
  
‘Think I will turn in for the night, enjoy desert.’ He stands holding in his filled stomach as best as he can and quickly turns to the exit, with his back to the other drivers the panic is much clearer on his face. Feeling the eyes of nineteen other men on him tears gather in his own.  
  
-  
  
It takes a lot of self control for Jenson to not instantly follow, he knows better then anyone what Fernando is in a hurry to do. Any one who has been there can see the sign like a neon light. Fighting his instincts he looks across to see Mark looking down at at his empty dinner plate sadness poorly hidden in his expression.  
  
_I have to try and help._  
  
He silently moves over to Mark and whispers as quietly as he can.  
  
‘Look I need you to trust me with your keycard.’ He tries his best to let his eyes tell the rest. I know, please let me help.  
  
With nothing but a nod as his answer Mark pulls the card from his pocket and hands it over. Hoping the others don’t care too much Jenson follows the path of the Sapniard now nervous in his plan.  
  
_Please listen to me._  
  
-  
  
The sound of the toilet flushing away his shame fades into the background as Fernando stands, his screaming mind finally filled with the soothing static only purging can bring. He avoids the mirror to rinse his mouth out and splash some water over his clammy face. Leaning against the basin he closes his eyes and just breathes, deep breaths to fill his lungs imagining they were filled with helium to spread through his body and make the scales finally reach that wonderful fulfilling number.  
  
The breath comes out slowly with control. Control, that was all he needed. Control and he would one day happy with himself though the dwindling rational part of his brain knew the addiction was well seated and wasn’t going to move without a fight.  
  
He finally moves with sluggish steps, the lack of energy making his legs feel heavier and heavier, to the door connected to Mark’s and his empty hotel bedroom.  
  
Well it was empty when he left it before.  
  
-  
  
Jenson quietly sits on the bed wondering if his idea was always as stupid as he thought it was right now. Ringing his hands together he tries to ignore the sounds of Fernando emptying his stomach, push away memories of being in the same place. In all honesty it hadn’t actually been that long ago that he finally listened to his Dad and got some much needed help, even less time since he purged. He toys with the idea of quickly fleeing the room and apologising profusely to Mark but a jolt of determination runs through him and he stays seated.  
  
_No I have to try._  
  
The telltale sound of the door opening makes him lift his head to look a startled and confused Fernando in the eyes.  
  
‘Hey, I think we should talk.’  
  
_Here we go._  
  
-  
  
_Fuck._  
  
‘Jenson? I- you are in my room?’  
  
_Shit, shit shit, no way he could not hear. Was not even even ten feet away._  
  
‘Sorry. Had to leave. Stomach hurt. But feel much better now.’  
  
The sympathetic look on Jenson’s face lets him know his lie isn’t going to cut it.  
  
‘Look Fernando I know what you’re going through and I know it feels impossible but there are people that can help you. Just please stop this.’  
  
_No one can help. Am useless._  
  
‘Do not know what you mean.’  
  
He hopes playing stupid might be his ticket out of this conversation with the Brit, of course it doesn’t work.  
  
‘You do. And please please believe me when I say I know how it feels.’  
  
Fernando feels his panic begin to be replaced with anger.  
  
‘You lie. Have no idea how I feel!’  
  
He couldn’t comprehend how anyone could understand the black hole growing inside him, consuming every ounce of self worth and positive thoughts he once held for himself. How could anyone know how it felt to have your own mind scream how disgusting you are, how unworthy you are of everything you have fought for.  
  
Jenson looks at him calmly and softly begins to speak.  
  
’It starts with just wanting to lose a couple pounds, you think if you do you’ll be better and be happy. And you know it works but then you start thinking of the next couple of pounds and the next and the next until it’s all you can think about. You work out, you diet but you reach a point where your body just stops losing the weight so you work out harder and you try every diet you can but it still doesn’t work. Then that niggling voice starts telling you that there’s no way you can’t lose weight if there’s no food going in in the first place and you try so hard to ignore it until one day you just stop fighting it.’  
  
_Please stop. Please, cannot listen anymore._  
  
The lump in his throat blocks the words from being verbal, aching as he holds in his tears as the man on his bed continues.  
  
‘Then the hunger hits you, constantly aching, making every small guilty bite you allow yourself to remain functional taste addictive. Pretty soon that voice is back telling you how you can trick your body, give it what it wants but get rid of straight after so there’s no chance to gain the imaginary weight you fear so much.’  
  
-  
  
He stops his speech when Fernando slides down against the wall curling in on himself his whole body shaking from the loud sobs filling the room.  
  
_I’m so sorry Fernando but you have to listen._  
  
-  
  
The screaming is back in his mind now and no matter how hard he tries to shield his body on the outside it can’t stop the mental onslaught.  
  
His sobs increase as Jenson moves from the bed and pulls him into a hug.  
  
‘Please trust me to help you.’  
  
_I can’t._  
  
‘I just need you to let mehelp, let Mark help, I know he wants nothing more than for you to be happy.’  
  
_I can’t._  
  
‘He loves you so much I don’t know what he would do if he lost you.’  
  
If he had enough energy to pay attention to his surroundings he would be able to feel the tears fall onto his head, the ones to match the desperation in Jenson’s voice.  
  
‘You’re going to kill yourself if you keep doing this, your family, your friends, everyone who loves you, just let us help.’  
  
He thought of Mark. He thought of his parents, his sister, all his friends and then he thought of himself before all of this. How disappointed he would be to see what would happen, how weak and pathetic he grew to be, how he would fight it, his fiery determination burning through until those vile voices faded into nothing more than a distant memory.  
  
_I have to try._  
  
Focusing on breathing through the sobs he pulled away from the comforting embrace to look up at Jenson, the fire relit in his warm eyes.  
  
‘Please help me.’  



End file.
